


Autumn

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-22
Updated: 2007-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-19 20:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12417144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Autumn is a time of change, and change is a big factor in teenage life. Life is change, life is also about learning, and life has a funny way of teaching us all we need to know... Six teenagers are about to learn some serious lessons. SBOC, RLOC, JPLE





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

** Hello our soon-to-be loyal reviewers (we hope). **

** This is a fanfiction about two girls who transfer to Hogwarts during the Marauders Era. Yes, it's been done, it's been done and been done badly, it has also been done well. We're hoping for the latter. **

** We would like to welcome you to our first joint fic, hopefully, the story will be interesting, and you'll stick with us throughout _Autumn_. On another note, we would like to add that we are writing in tandem, not as a single entity, seeing as we live in different countries. See if you can spot the differences in writing style (and spelling)! **

** On one last note, we have no beta, and as of now, aren't looking. We read each others stuff, and fix the mistakes we find, but it's not perfect. If you spot something, please point it out, and we'll fix it. We want our story to be as eye-friendly as possible! **

** Risa & Azure **

** Azure: Okay, people. This is going to be a universal disclaimer, for I don't like adding them and neither does Risa. We don't own Harry Potter or any of the themes therein. We make no profit from the writing of this story. Enjoy! **

* * *

Tabbi looked up at the hulking castle from her position on the ground and couldn't help but be intimidated. 

It was one thing to hear about Hogwarts; great, sprawling, with towers and spires reaching toward the Heavens, but another to see it in person. She had been hearing about this place for most of her magical life, which tallied just under six years. But now, as she looked up upon it, she felt very small. Salem's didn't compare to this... they weren't even in the same category.

Tabitha drew her cloak up tighter around her shoulders, shivering slightly. The one thing that she thought she surely would not get used to was the weather. In England, it seemed to rain constantly. And then, when it wasn't raining, it was bone-chillingly cold. She wondered briefly how it would be in the summer; if it would get as hot as it had in America or if it would stay in an eternal Autumn.

Glancing down at the small slip of paper in her hand, Tabitha read the words over again for what felt like the millionth time. Her instructions for entering the school were hard to read in the darkness. _In fact_ , she thought as she looked around at the black that surrounded her, _why am I still standing here?_

Gazing up at the outline of the huge castle one last time, she took the handle on her trunk and trudged up the path... a path that she hoped led to the front doors.

A few minutes later, she pushed open the massive doors. Inside, she was pleased to see, it was bright and cheery. Although it was probably late, and the famed Start-of-Term feast was probably over, the torches along the walls were still lit and burning brightly. Tabitha quickly disposed of her winter clothing and stowed it away in her trunk.

She looked down at the robes again, noting for about the sixth time today that they were odd. She wasn't used to wearing such an elaborate uniform; the one at Salem's had consisted of a polo shirt, skirt, stockings and shoes. This one, she observed, was made up of what felt like three different layers of clothes for no point that she could see.

Sighing, she looked around at the merrily lit Entrance Hall. There were four hourglasses on the back wall, two flanking either side of the Grand Staircase. She considered these curiously. The massive hourglasses had statues of animals perched atop them: a lion, a serpent, a raven, and an animal that could resemble a badger.

Tabitha moved closer to the hourglasses. There were stones inside, where grains of sand would normally be. The lion's was done in scarlet and gold; the topmost part of the hourglass was filled with small rubies. The serpent's, green and silver with emeralds pooled behind it's glass. That raven was perched on top of a stack of sapphires. She herself was blue and gold. The last hourglass was gold and black with the strange badger-like creature on it. It's topaz were shining in the torchlight.

She couldn't imagine what these were used for. It seemed that some of the strange practices at Hogwarts hadn't been mentioned in all the stories she'd heard.

Someone cleared their throat above her. Starting, Tabitha looked up to see a stern-faced woman in a more medieval style emerald robe.

"You would be Miss Hurley?" The witch asked, starting down the stairs.

"Yes ma'am." Tabitha murmured, watching the woman's decent.

"I see you were admiring our house-point counters," the woman went on, "said to be made by the Founders themselves."

"House-points?" she asked curiously, cocking her head to the side slightly.

"Here at Hogwarts, we divide our students by placing them in four seperate houses based on the qualities that the Four Founders prized. Your house is like your family; you go to classes with your house, sleep in your house dormitories, and spend free time in your house common room. Answering questions in class and exhibiting good behavior earns your house points, while breaking rules and causing general mayhem looses points for your house. At the end of the year, the house that had accumulated the most points will be awarded the House Cup, a high honor for the house to which it is awarded."

Tabitha looked perplexed for a moment, and then nodded. The witch continued, "There are Heads of House, put in place to keep houses from becoming too unruly. I am the head of Gryffindor house," she pointed to the hourglass with the lion guarding it. "I fully trust that, if you are in my house, you will not go to extraordinary lengths to get points taken away." Tabitha tore her gaze away from the hourglasses and nodded, somewhat reluctantly. She had no idea what she was promising. Or, indeed, which qualities that a Gryffindor possessed.

In short, the whole affair was becoming quite confusing. She bit back a sigh; she hardly wanted to be here at all.

"Miss Hurley, the Headmaster is waiting for you in his office. If you would follow me, please." She started up the stairs again, adding, "Oh, and do leave your things here. They'll be transported to your dormitory after it is decided upon which house you'll be entering."

Tabitha was a bit nervious about leaving her things behind. Everything she was going to rely on for the next year was in her trunk. How did they know some student wasn't going to come along and steal it? As suddenly as this thought crossed her mind, she laughed inwardly and shrugged it off. _They probably have wards against that sort of thing_.

Two more staircases led away from the landing at the top of the Grand Staircase. Tabitha, following the witch, took the marble one leading upwards. She got in a quick glance at the downward-leading stone staircase; it was dark and didn't look at all favorable. Deciding this must be the dungeon, she hoped that none of her classes took place down there.

There was a wooden door at the top of the marble staircase that gave way to a rather large hall. She looked up and suddenly felt sick. Towering miles above her were staircase upon staircase, all moving and constantly switching. _How am I ever going to find my way around in all this mess?_

Tabitha was finding out that there were many odd things about Hogwarts, most of which were kept hidden by cleverly placed rumors. She wondered why there was such a need for secrecy. It wasn't as though the school was private, or anything... Then, of course, she didn't know that much about the country. It was entirely possible that things like this were kept under wraps here. Salem's had been very open about what happened there.

Salem's... She remembered the day she had been told she would be transferring. Her father had mailed her a letter, telling her that he had finally got the job he had wanted for so long. Problem being that said job was clear across the Atlantic Ocean...

_ Tabitha wandered down to the cafeteria, hoping that they were still serving breakfast. Silently, she cursed her brain for not allowing her to get any sleep, and then allowing her to oversleep when she finally could rest. Completely crazy. Still, she was starting to adjust to this life; over Summer Vacations she had stayed up all night and slept all day. Such was the luxury of being an American teenager when your parents worked all day. Now that she was back at school, she couldn't get her schedule turned around. _

_ At long last, she pushed open the doors to the cafeteria to a loud protesting groan from her stomach. Frowning, Tabitha hurried over to the counter where the food was served, almost groaning at the nonexistent line. She knew the lady serving the food well; five years of going through this same line three times a day had not been wasted on her. "Ah, Mrs. Wincott. Lovely morning, isn't it?"  _

_ Mrs. Wincott mock-glared back at her. "You're an hour and a half late. You'd better be grateful I noticed you weren't in line this morning." she handed a steaming plate across the counter.  _

_ "Thank you so much!" Tabitha told her, eying the plate hungrily.  _

_ "Oh, and before you devour the plate as well..." Mrs. Wincott gave her an envelope. "Letter from home." _

_ She took it in passing, before rushing to find a table and digging in heavily to her eggs and toast. The cafeteria was nearly cleared out by the time she had noticed the letter, still laying innocently on the table.  _

_ "Tabbi!" she heard her name called from across the room and dropped the letter as her best friend Jess slid into the seat next to her, "Why are you always so late?" _

_ "Because," Tabitha told her friend simply, "I is almost 16. I sleep too much." _

_ "Yes, but I is almost 16 too, and I don't sleep as much as you do." There was silence for a moment, before her friend poked at the letter, "Ooh, letter from home?" _

_ Tabitha picked up the letter, "Almost forgot," and ripped it open. Her eyes scanned the page, and as she progressed they grew wide and she dropped her fork. _

_ "Tabbi?" Jess asked concerned.  _

_ "He. Did. Not."  _

_ "Didn't what--" Jess read the paper that was being pressed under her nose. Her eyes progressively got wider as well. _

_ "What?! He can't make you do this! You've still got two years to finish here! You can't transfer to some fancy English school..." _

_ "I - I..." Tabitha stammered. "I don't want to go. Whether it's Hogwarts or not, I don't care. I can't just leave!" She suddenly felt sick, and wasn't at all hungry. Pushing her plate away, she stood up. Jess came around the table to hug her. _

_ "Don't worry, Tabbicat. We won't let the mean ol' parents steal you away to England." _

"Miss Hurley?"

Tabitha snapped out of the flashback, shaking herself slightly. "Sorry ma'am. I was thinking."

The stern-faced witch gestured up the stairs. "The Headmaster is waiting."

She nodded and stepped onto the revolving staircase adorned with a phoenix. _Odd_ , she thought, as she reached the top of the stairs and knocked on the door.

It swung open of it's own accord, revealing an elaborate oval office adorned with portraits and shining magical objects. The Headmaster sat behind a large oak desk, his fingertips together. He looked thoughtful, almost meditating, and Tabitha hated to disturb his peace.

She cleared her throat after a moment of silence, and his eyes opened.

"You are Miss Tabitha Hurley, I presume?"

Tabitha nodded, afraid to speak in the company of someone so wise-looking.

The Headmaster sprang out of his chair with a nimbleness that spoke nothing of his age. He held out his hand to her in a gentle, friendly manner. "Professor Dumbledore."

She took the hand and shook it nervously.

"I suspect that Professor McGonagall has told you of our houses?"

"Yes Sir, she has."

"Very well," He strode over to one of the towering bookcases and pulled a weathered old hat out of it's display case, "I would like you to try on the Sorting Hat so that we may know where to put you."

Tabitha took the hat and put it on her head lightly. Suddenly, there was a voice whispering in her ear. She kept her thoughts clear so not to confuse the Hat, which clearly had strong magical properties.

After a fair bit of grumbling on the Hat's part, it stated aloud to the rest of the office, "Ravenclaw."

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and took the hat off of her head. The Headmaster took it back graciously, but didn't return it to the bookshelf. Tabitha thought that maybe there was another exchange student.

"I trust you will find life at Hogwarts very different from that at Salem's. I also think that you will handle the transfer well." Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes glittered at her, and she gulped.

"Yes Sir. I'll do my best." She smiled faintly. The Headmaster waved his wand in a sweeping motion, and she noted that her tie and the trimmings on her robes had turned blue and bronze. There was also a badge on her chest now, gleaming in Ravenclaw colors with a great black eagle about to take flight.

"Now, it is late, and you may find that all your dorm-mates are already asleep. I will let you do the same," she took this as a sign to stand. "Your belongings have been transfered to your dormitory... I will have Professor McGonagall escort you there."

"Thank you, Sir."

"You're very welcome. We shall speak some other time?"

Tabitha nodded, before taking her leave somewhat nervously. Professor McGonagall was waiting for her at the entrance to the Headmaster's office; with her was a large man with a lot of beard and a tan girl. She assumed this must be the transfer student. Waving, she was led away by the Professor.

That night she lay awake in the dormitory and listened to the sound of the other girl's deep breathing. She remembered saying goodbye to her friends a few months previously, remembered stepping onto that plane and waving goodbye to America.

Hogwarts seemed very odd already; she anticipated what her first day was going to be like. Did they have the same subjects here? How advanced were their sixth years? The questions stormed about in her head for the longest time. When she finally did sleep, she had no dreams.

* * *

** Okay, and that's a wrap! Now, that was the prologue, and from here on in, things will get a little more interesting! We appreciate reviews, preferably with a little praise, and some concrit. We don't advise flames, nor blatant advertisement of your story, if you review us, we will try to review you at some point. If you mention in passing something like this "If you're bored one time, would you mind giving me some feedback on my story (insert title here)" we may feel compelled to do as you ask; however, if you asked "Hey, nic storie!!1! Plz review mi storiez!1!!)" **

** Risa: If you like Slash, and also like SB/RB, check out Brotherly, which can be found under this penname. Azure wrote it, with minimal help from me (not to say she needs my help to be a brilliant author). It's slashy, slightly dark, lime-y, and powerful. (Azure, don't delete this!) **

** Risa & Azure **

 


	2. Chapter TWo

**Hello and welcome back to _Autumn_. We would like to wish our readers from the Southern hemisphere a pleasant Winter, and our Northerners a warm Summer!**

**A new chapter, and this time, both of us contributed! Try and tell who wrote what! We generally try to post only when we have a new chapter ready to be posted also, so that there's a back up if we get really rabid fans, which we do not really expect.**

**We're trying not to let Tabitha, and the new character about to be introduced become too Mary-sueish, and we'll take a Mary-sue test every few chapters, or when someone declares either a Mary-sue. We hope that our little baby here can earn a place in your hearts, and we'll update for as long as we have obediant muses and interested fans.**

**And now to our disclaimer girl, Azzy!**

**Azure: Okay, people. This is going to be a universal disclaimer, for I don't like adding them and neither does Risa. We don't own Harry Potter or any of the themes therein. We make no profit from the writing of this story. Enjoy!**

* * *

There were whispers all around her, closing in, ringing in her ears. At this rate, she couldn't tell whether they were dream-whispers or waking-whispers.

Groaning slightly, Tabitha opened her eyes. The blue curtains puzzled her for a moment; she couldn't remember where she was or how she had gotten there.

Then she remembered an office filled with books and odd trinkets, and an ancient voice muttering in her ear...

Tabitha sat up very slowly, thankful that she had remembered to pull the curtains closed last night. The whispers, she confirmed, were waking-whispers. It seemed that the other girls in her dorm had discovered her presence.

Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair subconsciously. Then, opening the curtains, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and felt her bare feet make contact with the cool wood floor.

Four pairs of eyes were staring at her. The other sixth-year Ravenclaw girls were already dressed in their ridiculously layered uniforms.

“Er,” she said intelligently, “Hi?”

As if broken from their trance, the girls automatically started going about their regular business of making beds and packing book bags.

Furrowing her brow, Tabitha started to get her own things together. Bed made, book bag packed, all she had left to do was put on the horrid uniform.

The skirt, stockings and shirt were fine. She was used to this being the _whole_ uniform, though.

Tabitha had no prior experience dealing with ties. This became clear as she fumbled with it, getting it all twisted up and than trying to unknot it. This went on for about five minutes before she gave a frustrated sigh and through the blue and bronze mess onto her bed.

One of the other girls, looking rather frightened, tapped her on the shoulder.

“Yeah?”

When there was no answer, she turned. A fair skinned girl with loads of curly blonde hair grinned at her, gesturing to the dead tie lying on the bed.

“You know how to do ties?” Tabitha asked, glancing at the girl’s perfectly tied one.

The girl nodded furiously, before pulling a thin wand out of her inner robe and pointed it at the tie. At once, it leapt to life. Flying into the air, it secured itself around Tabitha’s neck and knotted itself rather gracefully.

She looked at the girl in awe. “You’ve got to teach me how to do that!”

The other girl just grinned, and another one of her dorm-mates came up beside her. “Hello! I’m Diane Smith. This is Maggie Johnson. She’s mute,” Diane added, holding out her hand. Tabitha shook it, before going throwing on the blue-lined black robe.

“Would you like to come to breakfast with us? I’m just dying to know where you came from.” Diane grinned, walking to her own bed and slinging her book bag over her shoulder.

“Uh… sure,” Tabitha agreed, picking up her own bag. Maggie joined them, and together the three made their way down the dormitory stairs and out from behind the suit of armor that guarded their Common Room.

In the morning the light, the castle looked drastically different. The shadows that seemed to lurk in the corners and alcoves disappeared, alleviating the aura of mystery and foreboding.

This morning, Tabitha admitted, it actually looked nice. Ancient, but nice.

The stairs, however, still made her stomach turn. There was no way she was going to memorize all of the passages and floors and not get lost. She doubted that she would even be able to find her classes.

As they past a window, Tabitha caught a glance out at the grounds. Her jaw dropped. All this belonged to the school? And she thought navigating the castle was going to be difficult…

“We aren’t allowed in the forest,” Diane supplied, circling back when she realized that Tabitha wasn’t beside her, “So it’s not all that big. That,” she pointed to a oval structure with large trusses in the distance, “is the Quidditch Pitch. We won’t be having games for about a month yet, so you don’t have to worry about going that far. The lake, there, is where the first years come in. It’s rumored to be home to a Giant Squid, but I’ve never seen it. The Gamekeeper’s Hut… I don’t know him personally. Huge man with lots of beard.” Tabitha nodded, trying to keep up.

“The Herbology Greenhouses. We’ll likely have that today, I always have it my first day,” Diane finished, looking pleased.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to navigating this castle,” Tabitha said, taking one last long look at the grounds before starting off again, “its way too big. Salem’s had three levels.”

“ Salem’s? Is that where you’re from? I thought I recognized the accent.”

Maggie nodded, grinning still.

By the time they got down to the Great Hall for breakfast, Tabitha’s legs felt like they were going to fall off. “Now I know why you English witches are so fit. It’s those stairs, isn’t it?” Tabitha said, sliding onto the bench between Maggie and Diane.

She took this chance to look around at the Great Hall. The massive room housed three tables that ran nearly the length of the room, each labeled by the banner that hung from the ceiling. At the end of these tables there were three steps leading up to a platform, where there was another table place horizontal in front of the others.

In the center of this table was a large golden throne, in which sat Professor Dumbledore, whom she remembered from the night before. Stretched out on either side of him were people she assumed were teachers. She noticed the stern-faced witch that Dumbledore had called Professor McGonagall sitting directly to his right.

Tabitha looked up at the ceiling curiously, expecting to see a chandelier or some other testament to greatness hanging there. Quite the contrary, it looked like there _wasn’t_ ceiling. Clouds rolled by lazily on a canvas of azure blue.

“Er, Diane? What’s with the ceiling, or lack thereof?”

Diane laughed around her bacon. “It’s got a charm on it. Makes it reflect the sky outside. Don’t worry, though,” she added, “there is a ceiling there.”

Relieved, Tabitha started piling her plate with various food items.

She was just about to take a bite out of a piece of sausage when there was a very loud explosion from the other end of the room. Startled, she looked around.

* * *

Mercy was shivering as she walked through the tunnels of Hogwarts castle the morning after her arrival. She had been told by her new Head of House that her dormitory would be under the lake, and therefore freezing, but she hadn't expected this. The other students of her house ('Slytherin?' she wondered) were walking calmly and swiftly through the dimly lit corridors, and it was only by the virtue of there being so many of them that she wasn't yet lost.

The previous night she'd arrived in what she now knew was the Entrance Hall, she'd then dumped her things next to another trunk, and been escorted to the Headmaster's office to be Sorted. The Sorting was a very odd procedure; you tried on a hat which shouted the name of the House that best suited you. Back home (her throat tightened) there hadn't been Houses, because there hadn't been enough witches and wizards to do so; the only division had been in the sleeping arrangements, and that was by gender and age.

Anyway, the Hat had told her that she was ambitious, and that Slytherin would help her achieve her dreams, and thus the young Australian transfer student became a student of Hogwarts.

She was sent to a room for the five or six girls in her year, and had been hit with more of the green and silver decor they seemed to be overly fond of. The beds had been comfortable and warm (a warming charm, she suspected) and the stone floor had ended at the doorway, giving way to thick, lush carpet. The other girls who had been awake stared at her critically, asked her several questions about her magical heritage, and directed her to the empty bed at the end of the eerily lit room; the decorator seemed to think that flickering green candlelight would add to the reputation of the already snooty and icy Slytherin House.

She'd woken the next morning to a cool reception, though not as bad as the night before; apparently they'd decided that so long as she had a pureblood father, she was worthy of being spoken to and seen. One of the girls, who had introduced herself stiffly (or formally, depending on your opinion) as Catilina Malfoy, prompting the other five to do the same. Only Catilina's name had stuck in her mind though, probably because of the sharp grey eyes that had been staring into her back through the closed curtains for most of the sleepless night; or perhaps it was simply because the girl herself was oddly memorable.

Mercy shook her head, clearing it, as a rather large girl, who was a year older than her, by the looks of her, sent her stumbling sideways. The girl continued on her way, completely ignoring the shocked, and slowly angering Australian. She drew her elbow back sharply, her palm open; a short, narrow stick of wood fell easily into the waiting fingers. She raised her arm, falling into a practiced stance, and took aim. She stood there, feeling like a fool for a moment, then tucked away her wand, clamping down on her often disastrous temper.

"I wouldn't do that again," a cool voice stated from behind her. "Not only do you look like a complete fool, but you'll get detention for it too."

"I thought Slytherins didn't care about rules," she replied, trying to cover her surprise; the line about the Slytherin's was something that Hagrid, her escort, had mentioned as he explained the Houses.

"Most don't, some do," the girl replied, her bag hanging casually off a shoulder. "I think it's foolish to actively seek to break them."

Mercy shifted uncomfortable on the spot, her neck prickling; "I'm Mercy Dwyer."

"And from the accent, Australian," the girl continued loftily. "I am Philomena Harper."

"Pleased to meet you," Mercy tried a smile, offering a hand.

"Likewise."

Philomena Harper breezed past, ignoring the hand and leaving Mercy feeling even more like an idiot. Grimacing at her luck thus far, she hurried up the corridor after her rapidly vanishing Housemates, layered robes swishing in the dank corridor. Her new school shoes clicked on the stone floor, echoing off walls that became invisible in the plentiful shadows. The only light came from the medieval-looking torches lining the walls every ten metres or so, meaning that one had to be careful not to trip on the uneven ground. It wasn't until she was feeling warm in her cloak that she realised she was reaching her destination, whatever that might be.

The corridor opened into a wide hall, even grander than the Entrance Hall; her gaze ran along the polished floors to the pillars extending into... the sky? The roof, if there was one, was a beautiful blue canvas splashed with white, fluffy clouds. She was staring, this castle was so much more ancient, and... charming than her previous school, which had been rather bland by comparison. Her eyes traced their way back down to look across the general area, moving focus from the impressive ceiling to the lengthy mahogany-looking tables.

She knew probably looked like a fool (again) but she didn't care at that moment, to engulfed by the exquisite, if somewhat showy, castle. The four tables each stretched the width of the hall, which was large enough to seat one thousand people with much room to spare. At each table sat at least two hundred or so students, seemingly colour-coded, all of whom were chattering and laughing together. There were some rather obvious cliques, but mainly the students seemed to mesh in every which way, so different from her old school; though she supposed that had something to do with the Houses thing. There was, occasionally, a blue, red or yellow student sitting at another table, but the green table seemed to stick to themselves. She glanced down at her tie, which hung limp on her layered black cloak; she sighed, yet another reason to be separated from the others.

Despite being the only table that was not speckled with other colours, and the only one without its own colour scattered throughout the hall, it was the most obviously segregated. The seemingly 'high-born' girls and boys were sitting closest to the back of the hall, furthest from the teachers. Even these groups were divided, the couples sat together, either swapping spit between bites, or staring politely into each others eyes; from there there were two more sections, single boys and single girls. Just along the table from these groups were the cronies, then at the end closest the teachers were the social rejects. The social rejects, as she called them (and herself) were often the most interesting people to be friends with, rather than someone is was shameful to know.

Making her decision she strode down between the wall and the Slytherin table, and swung her leg over the seat, sitting in front of a golden plate. She blinked down at the aforementioned plate, and tapped it curiously with a short fingernail. She grinned, and began to serve bacon and eggs onto her plate, her bag set beside her. She became aware, as she began to eat, that she was being stared at by some of the younger Slytherins, and several of the older boys.

'Damn... new girl label,' she thought to herself, trying to eat normally with some difficulty. 'Ah well, they'll get over it soon enough... I hope.'

She was reaching for the juice pitcher to pour herself a drink, and all Hell broke loose.

Snakes _exploded_ (yes, _snakes_ ) out of the juice, their red-and-gold plastic bodies raining down on the unlucky Slytherin table. Mercy barely had time to realise that the same thing was happening all the way down the table before her food dissolved, and a jet of water spat up off the gilded surface and into her face. Now drenched from the shoulders up, and surrounded by plastic snakes (which had been bespelled with an Time-Delay Animation Charm, and were starting to slither around under the table) Mercy was all too aware of obnoxious laughter from the rest of the school.

'Oh _great_! So not only do I get to be the new girl in the prissy, reject House, but I get to be the butt of every prankster's jokes,' she snarled mentally, standing angrily.

Or rather, she tried to stand. As soon as she did so, however, she slipped on the suddenly curved floor. She blinked up in confusion, and found herself looking through an opaque, curved roof. She groaned, the sound echoing inside the bubble she'd been trapped in, and realised belatedly that she was, like everyone else in her House, floating about four metres off the ground. The shaky hold she had on her temper was torn off as she saw her hair in the slightly reflective bubble.

'Pink?' she shrieked mentally, then drew her wand, eyes narrow with fury, and jabbed the pale wood at the bubble. "Pungi!"

Whatever effect the spell had been intended to have was obviously not what occurred, as nothing happened what-so-ever. Looking frustrated, she tried the spell again, to the same result. After several more tries, and a lot of frustration on her part, she gave up, and contented herself with floating above the heads of the laughing students, and picking out the memorable ones to hex at a later date.

Her attention was drawn to a group of three boys, who, other than laughing themselves sick, seemed to stand out. All three were in red; one boy was shorter and plumper than the other two, his features were somewhat mousey, and his watery blue eyes remained fixed on the middle-height boy. The other two boys both had black-hair, though one had let his become a mess, quite resembling an overgrown patch of grass, this was the boy who seemed to be the plump one's fascination. The other boy had more elegant looks, and a distinctly nonchalant air.

It wasn't until she saw one of the dark-haired boys look towards a sandy haired boy that she noticed they were a quartet. The messy-haired boy, who had looked towards the pale blonde, grinned easily, and spoke a few words before bursting into laughter again. The sandy-haired by smiled hesitantly, and glanced guiltily at the floating Slytherins, then broke into a full grin and began to converse with the other dark-haired boy.

As soon as she heard laughter, she realised she was free of her bubble. She looked away from the boys, who were being approached by an angry-looking red-headed girl, and saw one of the teachers levitating her to the ground beside the blue table. There were jeers from the students, and angry teachers scolding them as she touched down on the floor. Around her, other green students were doing the same, and most looking pissed off, or frightened.

Suddenly she was being lifted to her feet, careful hands gripping her forearms. She met a set of green optics, and took in the appearance of an average-height brunette girl. She was smiling, like the rest of them. Mercy flared up with anger.

"What?" she spat. "Come to laugh at the new girl?"

Mercy was taken aback at the angry American accent that brought her the retort.

"Oh, and a fine way to thank someone who just helped you off the floor," the other brunette snapped back. "No, I wasn't here to laugh, but if you treat me like that, I'll regret not joining them when they did."

Mercy looked at the girl carefully, and noted the reproachful look; she decided that perhaps this girl really had been just helping. Rather than apologising profusely, or lowering herself to look as if she was begging for forgiveness, she looked the other girl in the eye.

"Sorry."

The sincerity was there, but Mercy refused to show any signs of thinking she was lower or weaker than the other girl, it wasn't in her nature to grovel; if this girl refused this apology, Mercy wouldn't take it further.

Their eyes locked for a moment, unspoken tests given in that second of connection, then the other girl nodded slightly in affirmation.

"I'm Tabitha Hurley," she offered. "But call me Tabbi."

"Mercy Dwyer. Meri."

The general organised chaos that had reigned before the snake explosions had returned, and Tabitha and Mercy were not the only two walking about or talking, so they drew no attention. What did draw attention was the shrill bell ringing throughout the castle, signifying the end of the breakfast period, and the beginning of their new schooling life.

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**And there we have it folks, another chapter in the (to date) somewhat boring tales of Meri and Tabbi! We're going to get things moving a little more next chapter, when the girls properly meet the Marauders and Lily, and encounter their first British-style magic lesson! Stay tuned for more, oh, and review, the review box likes your thoughts, eyes and keystrokes.**

**Risa & Azure**


	3. Chatper Three

**Heylo and welcome back to _Autumn_ for a third time. Update is slightly late this time, only because Azure has had a serious case of Dead Muse as of late. But don't fret, it's revived now. Actually, it's sitting on my couch eating chips... Yo! Azure's Muse! Get back to work!**

**Ahem.**

**Anyway, this chapter is written in large part by Risa; Azure only contributed slightly because she is the Queen of Potions (Thanks to the Lexicon, heh) and in the middle. Yay Risa!**

**On to the Chapter! But first! Disclaimer time!**

**Okay, people. This is going to be a universal disclaimer, for I don't like adding them and neither does Risa. We don't own Harry Potter or any of the themes therein. We make no profit from the writing of this story. Enjoy!**

* * *

"There's... so many... stairs," Mercy wheezed, leaning against the wall, her bag swinging off one shoulder.

"Yes," Tabitha replied, a little better off, but also breathing rather heavily. "I found that out... earlier today... our dorms are on top... of a tower."

"Unlucky you," Mercy replied. "Damn... why did breakfast... have to be so... disturbed? I'm hungry... damn."

"Oh you should get used to that," Diana replied, looking unfazed by all the climbing. "Thousands of stairs a day will have you fit as a horse."

"More of this?" Mercy groaned. "Every day?"

"Pretty much," Diana smiled cheekily. "Don't worry, we'll look after you."

Mercy rolled her eyes, and Tabitha sighed.

"How much further?" Tabitha asked.

"What do we have again?" Mercy continued.

"Charms, and only a floor to go now," Diana said.

Maggie was already halfway up the next staircase, following the vanishing herd of Slytherins and Ravenclaws, Diana was close behind, with Tabitha walking just beside Mercy. The two were on friendly terms, and had decided to stick together as much as possible, being the two transfers and all. They figured that they might as well discover Hogwarts together, since both of them knew next to nothing except what was told in myths and such.

It turned out that Charms was taught by a short little wizard called Professor Flitwick. When they entered the classroom by the large doors in the Charms Corridor on the third floor, they were met by the sight of a tiny man balanced on top of a pile of books that looked dangerously close to falling over. Tabitha, repressing a laugh, scouted out seats for the four of them. Mercy sat on one side, while Maggie and Diana were on the other.

They didn't seem to like each other... Maggie and Diana seemed to think that since Mercy was a Slytherin, no good could come from having her as a friend. Tabitha rolled her eyes at this; she didn't understand the hatred that everyone seemed to be showing for Slytherins. She figured that at some point, she'd have to have Diana explain it to her, however, class was calling her attention now.

"Welcome to sixth year Charms," the professor squeaked. "You have all achieved at least an A on your OWLs, although I hope most of you have surpassed this mark! I will now take the roll, so I'll ask for complete silence."

He began to call the names, and Mercy looked at Tabitha, utterly confused and a little worried. When the other brunette looked at her, Mercy mouthed 'OWLs?'. Tabitha looked equally confused, and was running her left thumb over her right in a continual cycle. The American girl shrugged at Mercy, and turned her attention to the front to await her name. Mercy did the same as hers was called, and the class in general glanced in her direction.

"Ah, one of the new girls," the professor smiled. "Welcome to Hogwarts, I am Professor Flitwick."

Mercy swallowed, "Thanks, I... Uh..."

The class sniggered at her, and she clenched her fist tight enough to make her palm bleed. She closed her eyes briefly, then looked at her professor and tried to make a better impression. "I'm happy to be here," she said, offering a small smile, before dropping her eyes. Professor Flitwick nodded at her, before continuing down the roll sheet.

Tabitha winced as her name was called. It sounded so... American. And she was sure that they would find her accent laughable.

"Another new girl," he said, " Welcome to Howarts as well."

"Thank you, sir..." Tabitha hesitated, before falling silent. Once again the class sniggered in her general direction, and she scowled at the desktop. This was not going well at all. So much for accepting her in with open arms. _Well_ , she thought challengingly as the professor put away the scroll, _I'll just have to prove myself to them, won't I?_

"So, I trust that all of you are looking into one of the many career fields that involve Charmwork?" the professor started in again, "Either that or you just got good marks on the Charms OWL."

Tabitha raised an eyebrow at Mercy, before raising her hand. "Excuse me, sir. Not meaning to be disrespectful or anything, but what are OWLs?"

The classroom fell silent for a second time, and Tabitha had the feeling that many of her classmates were trying not to laugh. She rolled her eyes at them.

"Oh dear... you haven't heard of OWLs?"

Biting back a retort, she nodded.

"Ordinary Wizarding Levels, tests that are taken at the end of the fifth year of schooling. Certain classes will only accept students back if they get certain grades and are proficient enough to attempt the difficulty level. Also, certain careers require a certain number of OWLs in certain subjects."

"Oh! I get it!" Tabitha said, "They're like WPs. What we had at Salem's, that is... Wizarding Proficiencies."

At the same time, Mercy spoke up. "Like the MSC!"

The class laughed openly at the two, and Mercy lifted her chin, glaring down her nose at one of the Slytherin boys who was looking directly at her while doing so. She resisted the urge to draw her wand based purely on the knowledge that she wasn't a good duelist.

Tabitha glared down at the tabletop. Not exactly a wonderful start to the day... reminding herself that she still had four classes to get through today, she watched the professor try to get the students to settle down.

"All right," he said when finally the room was silent again, "Today will be a fairly easy day, I think. We're just going to recap on the OWL Charms, to get you warmed up for this year. First thing is, of course, the Summoning Charm."

The class paired off and started working, summoning giant pillows from across the room. From there, they moved on to Color-Changing Charms. Tabitha amused herself for a good ten minutes with changing her hair eight different colors, before waving Professor Flitwick over to ask how to remove it. As the bell rang and the class started to gather their things, the professor called that there would be no homework.

"Well, that was... interesting," Tabitha said to Mercy on the way to their next class.

"Yeah... interesting," Mercy muttered, her eyes on the floor. 'Even within my own House...'

"Hey... You..." Tabitha stopped. "You know what we have next?"

"Uh... I have Potions..." Mercy replied, blinking and fumbling with her timetable. "What about you?"

"Um... Oh, ick! Herbology," Tabitha wrinkled her nose. "I hate Herbology."

"I guess we're separating then," Mercy sighed. "I'll try to find someone to follow... Good luck."

"Yeah, thanks," Tabitha smiled, then turned. "Hey! Maggie! Diana! What have you got?"

Mercy glanced down the corridor, seeking a flash of green amongst the multitude of black and blue. She bit her lip, and stumbled as someone pushed her from the side. She was reminded of that morning, when Philomena had introduced herself. Speaking of Philomena...

"Hey! Harper!"

The girl turned carefully, schooling her expression and posture, she cocked an eyebrow. "Dwyer?"

"Do you have potions?" Mercy asked, jogging to catch up to Philomena.

"Yes."

"Could I walk with you? I don't know the way..." she trailed off.

Philomena looked at her critically for a moment, her eyes hard. "If you must."

She turned gracefully, auburn hair flicking out behind her. Her eyes, a sharp hazel, lingered on Mercy for a moment as she did so, and Mercy took this as her 'cue' to follow. She couldn't help but feel awkward, watching the way that Philomena walked; she was like an elf, or a fairy from a Muggle story, impossibly light and graceful. The brunette had opened and closed her mouth several times to ask about this before they reached the dungeon room where her next lesson was to be held, and it was only as they joined the messy and segregated line that she finally did.

"Philomena," she asked cautiously, first exercising the use of the other girl's first name.

"Yes?" Philomena asked, her tone crisp and cool.

"I... Uh..." suddenly Mercy decided it wasn't exactly the best question to ask, and so she cast around for a better one. "What's the teacher like?"

"He's the Head of Slytherin House," she replied without missing a beat, or looking at Mercy. "He likes fame, so if you turn out to be more than competent at potion brewing, he'll likely invite you to join his... club."

"Club?" Mercy asked curiously, noting the pause.

"The Slug Club," Philomena elaborated. "It's for good potioneers, and anyone with famous family, or anyone who has a particular talent in another subject. He has a good eye for the 'special' kids, the ones that'll go far. See him?" she pointed to a dark-haired boy with a rather large nose who was standing to the side of the group. "That's Severus Snape; he's not popular, usually he's the scapegoat for the Marauder's pranks. He's very good with potions, best in the year, other than Lily Evans. That's her there," Philomena pointed to a pretty red-head standing with a group of Gryffindor girls. "She's good with potions and charms, and she doesn't really go with the House prejudices; she has friends in all the Houses, I think."

Mercy may have been forced to think of a reply, but luckily, their teacher appeared. She realised, belatedly, that it was the man who had taken her to her House common room, and therefore her Head of House, which Philomena had already mentioned. She shuffled in after the others, ignoring the suffocating closeness of the other students, she never really did like being so close to so many people; she hated crowds.

"Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts," her Head of House boomed merrily once they were seated. "For our transfer student, I am Professor Slughorn, the potions professor here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Tell me, Miss Dwyer, are you of any relation to William Dwyer?"

"Uh..." she fiddled with the sleeve of her robe. "I... don't think so."

"Ah, pity, he was a great alchemist," Slughorn shook his head. "Anyway, I'm getting off topic. This year, we will quickly revise the OWL material, then move on to this years curriculum. However, today, I have several potions to show you."

The portly man hurried over to one of the alcoves, and pulled out a tray. Upon this tray were several small cauldrons, and already Mercy could smell the mixed scent wafting across the room. Slughorn was levitating the tray towards the empty desk at the front.

"Gather 'round, class," he ordered, looking excited.

The class did so with minimal fussing, and Mercy could see the same group of boys from that morning, though they were once again a trio. The pale, peaky boy with the sandy hair was there, but the plumper boy was gone. But her attention was drawn away from them, and to the simmering potion in one of the cauldrons. She felt a dreamy, fuzzy layer overtake her mind as she drew in the scent of something she couldn't name.

"Can anyone tell me what this is?" Slughorn asked, gesturing to the pinkish potion Mercy had inhaled.

Three or four hands were raised, including the two Philomena had pointed out earlier, and-

"Miss Malfoy?" Slughorn asked.

"Amortentia, the most powerful love potion," Catilina replied smoothly.

"Excellent, five points to Slytherin," Slughorn beamed. "Now, what about this one?"

He was pointing to a clear, scentless potion. "Mr. Snape?"

"Veritaserum," he replied, just shy of eagerly. "It's a colourless, odorless potion that compels the drinker to tell the truth. However, it forces the drinker to speak the truth he believes, not necessarily the truth as it is. For example, if you told a colour-blind man that the walls of a blue room were green, he could say that while under the influence of Veritaserum, because it was what he believed."

"A very good description, Mr. Snape, ten points!" Slughorn beamed. "Very in depth!"

Someone coughed near the back, it sounded suspiciously like 'teacher's pet'. Snape, who had been verging on smiling, turned a vivid shade of red, and scowled. Mercy glanced back, and saw the red-head, Lily, glaring at the messy-haired boy from that morning, the one with the truly unruly hair and the hazel eyes. She turned back to the front moments later, as Lily began to answer about the third potion, a golden potion that Snape had his black eyes fixed on almost hungrily.

"Felix Felicis," she said excitedly, her emerald eyes fixed on the metallic potion. "It's a luck potion; it's said that the drinker will have the best of luck in all his endeavors for the first few hours after drinking it. If taken in excess, though, it causes recklessness and dangerous overconfidence."

"Thank you, Miss Evans, five points to Gryffindor," Slughorn was already moving onto the next potion. "And our last potion. Ah, yes, thank you Mr. Lupin!"

"Polyjuice potion," Lupin, the sandy haired boy, said quietly. "It is effectively a shapeshifting potion that allows the drinker to take the form of another person for an hour at a time. If brewed incorrectly, the results can be lethal or permanent. Human-to-animal transformations are dangerous, and are considered impossible."

"An accurate description, Mr. Lupin," Slughorn noted. "Five points. Throughout the year, I will be awarding hard work and good scores with a bottle of this," he held up a small vial of the Felix Felicis. "Now, we have to get back to work, first the roll."

The roll was called swiftly, and Slughorn decided to pair them up for the lesson, and it seemed that he wanted to increase inter-House relations, as he'd paired Meri with Lily Evans, a Gryffindor. She was not the only one, Lupin (whose first name was Remus, she'd learned) had been sent to sit with Severus Snape.

As she walked down the corridor between the tables, she was forced to stop short near the table where Philomena and a boy called James Potter sat. James had stuck his leg out to stop her in her tracks, hazel eyes meeting her brown ones.

"Hey, you, new girl, so much as twitch a wand in Evans' direction, and I'll make you wish you never transfered," he said cockily, smirking up at her.

'Ah, finally, ground I can work with,' she thought, then shot her reply. "Oi, you, lion-boy, threaten me again and I'll hex you into next week."

"I hope you've got the skills to back that up, Dwyer," he sneered. "Watch your back."

"Likewise, Potter," she smirked, bending down to look him in the eye. "Careful, you've just given a potential enemy a very valuable weapon. Miss Evans had best watch her pretty neck."

"Miss Dwyer, please take your seat," Slughorn said sternly from the front, interrupting James' furious retort.

"Sorry, Professor," she ducked her head, hurrying to the desk where Lily Evans sat, which was, thankfully, quite far from James Potter.

"I hope Potter didn't give you too much trouble," Lily smiled, moving her belongings to make room for Mercy. "I'm Lily Evans... which you probably already knew from being told to sit with me. I hope you've enjoyed your stay at Hogwarts so far."

'What? Getting my hair turned pink?' she wondered bitterly. Luckily for her, the Colour Changing charms had returned it to its natural colour. "I think it'll take some getting used to, I mean, it's a big change 'nd all."

"Yes, you transfered from Australia... right?" Lily asked cheerfully.

"Mmhm," Mercy nodded, she was quickly seeing why Lily was popular in all the Houses. "Is the Potter boy your boyfriend?"

Lily's pleasant expression melted into one somewhere between horrified and sickened. "No. What gave you that idea?"

'Oh, now this I can use,' she was smirking internally. "He was just very protective, he said something about making me wish I hadn't transfered."

The red-head looked furious. "Oh he did, did he?"

"Sorry, I shouldn't assume," she apologised.

"It's alright," Lily was glaring at James' back by this point. "Don't get the wrong idea, most Gryffindors are quite pleasant if you give them the chance, they just need to do the same for Slytherins."

"Why do Gryffindors hate Slytherins so much?" Mercy asked, honestly curious this time.

"Gryffindor and Slytherin are traditionally rivals," Lily sighed. "I'm not too certain what started the whole thing, but it probably started with the Founders, Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin. They disagreed over blood purity, Slytherin was very pro-pure, while Gryffindor thought that it shouldn't matter, in the end it drove Slytherin out of the castle."

"Wow..." Mercy blinked, looking a little dazed. "That long, huh?"

"Yeah..." Lily replied. "It's just always been that way."

It was then that something occurred to the Slytherin girl. "Sorry, I've been rude. My name is Mercy Dwyer, but call me Meri."

"I will."

"Would you all open your copies of Advanced Potion Making to page ten, so we can look over the information on the Draught of Living Death?"

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**Yay! Canon characters? Aren't you proud of us? Wouldn't you like to tell us how proud you are? Azure, stop wiggling your eyebrows at them. You'll scare them away.**

**Risa and Azure**


	4. Chapter Four

**Holy Hogwarts, that was a long chapter. And long time coming, too. Muse dead. I is sorry.**

**/me pokes dead readers/reviewers.**

**5k words... dang.**

**Anyway, hope you like. I personally don't think this chapter is one of my favorites, because of the crappy quality of my writing. MINE. NOT RISA'S.**

**Risa: -pokes Azure- If anyone wrote a crappy part, it's me.  
**

**Anyway, enjoy. Sorry for the wait.**

**Risa and Azure**

**Azure: Okay, people. This is going to be a universal disclaimer, for I don't like adding them and neither does Risa. We don't own Harry Potter or any of the themes therein. We make no profit from the writing of this story. Enjoy!**

* * *

Tabitha glared down at the slimy bulb in the bowl before her, hoping that she could puncture it without having to touch it. To tell the truth, she hadn't really been listening while Professor Sprout gave the instructions on how to crack open the bulb and get to the pus inside. To tell the truth, she really hated Herbology and didn't care much.

Sighing, she rested her chin in her hand and let her eyes wander around the Greenhouse to the other students trying to break the bulbs open. It seemed that she, Maggie, Diana, and another boy in their year were the only Ravenclaws in Herbology this year. Tabitha, however, was the only one out of those four that didn't want to be there.

They were working in groups of two today. Like always, they were paired by the teacher, and she had the incredible luck (har) of working with a Gryffindor. Said Gryffindor knew nothing of the subject. Rolling her eyes, she picked up a nearby sharp tool and poked the bulb. When the tool failed to penetrate the bulb's hard exterior, Tabitha attacked it more furiously.

The result of this was a stream of the pus shooting out in a great stream and soaking the Gryffindor boy across the table.

Tabitha stared at him for a moment with wide eyes, before rushing to the workstation and grabbing a towel. "I am soooo sorry!"

The boy spit some of the yellow pus out of his mouth, taking the towel and wiping his face on it.

"Er... Professor?" Tabitha called hesitantly, "What are these things called again?"

"Bubotubers," the professor was making her rounds, "and remember everyone! Take care not to get the pus on your skin! It causes particularly nasty and painful boils to appear where ever it makes contact."

Tabitha's eyes widened further as she looked back at the boy, whose face had been covered in the pus moments earlier. Large postule boils were starting to form all over his face, making him look like a beet for a few moments before his face was completely engulfed in pus-filled bumps.

Halfway between being disgusted and feeling extremely guilty, she watched at the professor came ever-closed, weaving among the tables of students and checking their progress with the pods. When she approached their table, the professor stopped and sighed.

"I don't want to know. Just... Please, Miss Hurley. Will you take Mr. Pettigrew to the Hospital Wing?"

"Sure..." Tabitha helped the boy out of the chair as they left the Greenhouse, wondering how on earth she was going to find the Hospital Wing. Thankfully, she found the front doors all right. Even the outside of the castle was a maze of passageways and courtyards.

Standing in front of the marble staircase, she turned to Pettigrew. "Sorry to ask, but... do you know where the Hospital Wing is?"

He looked annoyed, and stuck up three fingers.

"Right, third floor..." they continued up the staircase, Tabitha helping Pettigrew along. The boils had gotten to the point where his eyes were swollen shut, and he stumbled along blindly. It was her obligation to help him. After all, it was her fault.

Progress was antagonizingly slow, what with the blind leading the blind. She could only hope she was going in the right direction.

Finally when they reached the third floor, there was a ghost floating near a set of double doors.

"Excuse me? Could you please point me in the direction of the Hospital Wing?" The ghost grunted, rolled his eyes, and pointed at a larger set of double doors a little down the hallway. "Thank you," she added, before leading them off in that direction.

A few moments later, she was sitting in one of the hard waiting room chairs, fiddling with her fingers nervously. She was going to get detention, she just knew it. Even if it was just an accident, she hadn't used the proper procedures for bursting a Bubotuber pod. Not that she knew what the proper procedures were. All the worse for her.

She jumped as the door opened. The school matron hurried out, looking flustered. "It's not that dealing with bubotubers isn't easy, I just hate doing the charm."

"What a coincidence," Tabitha said under her breath, "I hate bubotubers in general."

"What did you say?"

"Oh, nothing," she said, following the matron back into the ward. "Is he okay?"

"Yes, he'll be fine, nothing that a few good nights rest and some salve wont fix," she smiled.

"It really was a mistake. I didn't mean for it to just... burst like that."

"Well, I'll be sure to ask Professor Sprout to keep you away from bubotuber pods from now on."

Tabitha hung her head, taking a seat beside the now glaring Gryffindor's bed.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen."

"You didn't listen to the instructions. You didn't know how to do it right."

"Yes, well. You didn't know how to do it right either, or I'm sure you would have told me!"

"That... that's not the point!" He crossed his arms childishly. Tabitha raised an eyebrow at him.

Someone behind her spoke. "You did that to him?"

She turned. Three beds down the ward was a boy with shoulder-length greasy hair and a nose that reminded Tabitha of a beak.

"It was an accident," she said, shrugging.

The boy's lip curled. "Either way, you're going to have the rest of the Marauders after you."

"Marauders?" Tabitha was not liking the sound of this.

"His 'friends'."

She groaned. Enemies. Just what she needed on her first day. Shaking her head, she stood up. "Well, thanks for the advice. I'd better get back to class." Neither boy said anything.

Herbology was over by the time she got back to the Greenhouses. Tabitha fell in beside Maggie and Diana in the crowd leaving the class. Maggie seemed to be laughing.

Diana grinned at her. "Way to go with the pod, by the way."

"Oh, shut up."

Mercy was waiting for them in the Entrance Hall.

"So... how was Herbology?"

"Where would you like me to begin? The part where I didn't pay attention, the part where I got bubotuber pus over some Gryffindor, or the part where I was warned that I would have his 'friends' after my hide?"

"Ouch, you've got enemies now too?" Mercy asked sympathetically. "I didn't exactly make a good impression on some of the Gryffindors this morning in Potions."

"Who?"

"Some kid called James Potter," she shrugged, taking a seat with Tabitha at the Ravenclaw table for lunch. "And probably his friends."

"Ah, don't take that one personally," Diana muttered, not friendly, but not unfriendly in her tone. "The Marauders hate anything dressed in green and snake-related."

"The Marauders?" Tabitha asked, she'd been warned by the Slytherin boy in the Hospital wing that these people, whoever they were, wouldn't like her for the accident with the bubotubas.

"Yeah, they're this group of four Gryffindor boys," Diana held up a hand, four fingers extended, serving herself some food. "James Potter; he's the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, and he's had his eye on Lily Evans for years. He's something of a leader within the group. He dates a lot, but not as much as Sirius Black." She dropped a finger. "He's dated most of our year, and some of the older and younger years. He and Potter and inseparable most of the time, and they're always pulling some prank or another." Another finger down. "Then we have Remus Lupin... Lupin's the more responsible one, if a Marauder can be responsible; he's a very private and secretive, and hasn't really dated much, some girl in fourth year through to about when the OWLs started, I think. He's smart, should've been a Ravenclaw, that one." A third finger, and she took a bite before continuing. "Last, and least, we have Peter Petigrew, no one really knows why he's their friend, he doesn't really fit the mold. He's not very talented, he's not good looking, he's not smart, and he's not really the Marauder type in general. He's more like a groupie, only I doubt he's slept with anyone, let alone any of the 'band members'." Diana dropped her hand.

Maggie nodded, taking a mouthful of what looked like egg-salad with mayonnaise. Mercy looked at her curiously, and Maggie shrugged, looking away. Mercy noticed at that point that a few of the blue-students, and the few other colours were shooting her strange looks, she tried to ignore the prickling on the back of her neck, and continued to serve herself from the various dishes available.

Hogwarts food was different, where she had recently moved from, there was salads, hot chips, sandwiches, and the like for lunch, nothing quite as elaborate as this. Breakfast had been toast with jam, vegamite, or some such, with juice to drink, and occasionally something along the lines of instant noodles. Here there were kippers and so many things that seemed exotic to her. Dinner she had yet to experience, but she doubted it would be less extravagant than lunch and breakfast had been. Scotland and the UK in general was so different from home. It was colder, for one thing, she'd been shivering all through potions, and huddled to the heat of the simmering cauldron.

She shook her head, yet again bringing herself from her thoughts. She knew that she wasn't really welcome at the Ravenclaw table, but she had a... well, an ally here, and she needed allies with all the enemies she was getting herself already. She had two people on neutral terms as well, which was good, and she had Lily Evans at the red-table, who was friendly and willing to offer assistance. She was gaining more enemies than allies, but at least she had some of the latter.

"What's an owl doing here do late?" Diana's voice asked as a tawny owl swooped down to land on the table. "Usually they deliver in the mornings..."

"It's addressed to you," Tabitha noted, pushing the letter across the table with a clean fork.

"Thanks," Mercy murmured, glancing at the writing and tucking it into her cloak.

"Welcome," the American girl grinned, returning to her food. "I'm starving..."

It was at this point that Mercy's body seemed to remember she hadn't eaten breakfast, and, ravenous, she dug in.

A short time later, they were chatting and trading stories of their experiences as they digested their food. Mercy avoided the conversation as much as possible, but found that the others always seemed to have a question for her to answer; for some of these, she managed to avoid it with a simple shrug of her shoulders, or a quick answer, but some of them required more skillful evading. Mercy, simply put, didn't like to give potential enemies weapons, she'd learned the painful way not to do that.

"Hey... what do we have now?" Diana asked suddenly, breaking out of a round of embarrassing stories surrounding friends and family. "The bell will be going soon."

"Uh," Tabitha pulled out a timetable, but was beaten to the punch by Maggie, who held her timetable up to Diana's eyes.

"Oh, I have Defence Against the Dark Arts," Diana said, sounded a little excited. "What about you lot?"

A quick comparison of timetables proved that they were sharing the subject for this period.

"I wonder who we have this year," Diana translated for Maggie, who was signing quickly in her direction. Then elaborated at confused looks from the transfer students; "It changes every year, some people think the job's hexed."

"Well, let's find out," Tabitha suggested, standing as the bell rang and the remnants of food vanished form the table. "Where does that go?"

"To the kitchens, for the house elves to look after," Diana replied.

Mercy noted, somewhat bitterly, that Diana's tone was far more warm and open for the fellow Ravenclaw than for her, but knew that it was only natural, and tried to ignore it.

"House elves?" she asked curiously. "You have house elves?"

"Sure, there's hundreds of them here, apparently it's the biggest community in magical Brittan," Diana shrugged. "No one, except the Marauders, and a few of their ex-girlfriends, knows where the kitchens are, other than the teachers of course."

The quartet, thrown together more out of convenience than by choice, walked through the doors to join the throng of multicoloured students in the Entrance Hall, the Ravenclaws chattering, or signing, amongst themselves, while the Slytherin followed close behind.

Maggie and Diana led the way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the first floor. Tabitha was thankful that there weren't many stairs to climb to get to this one. Tabitha picked a seat in the middle of the room, threw her bag onto the desk and started to dig through it.

"Damn," she said after a moment, "I've left my book somewhere. I'll bet it was in the Entrance Hall, with all the crowd..." Upon closer inspection of her bag, she found that there was a large gash in the canvas on the bottom.

Sighing, she stood up. "I'll fix it when I get back. I'm going to have to go back and look for it." Maggie stood up, signing furiously.

"You'll be late," Diana translated, taking her own seat, "And she wants to go with you."

"No, Maggie. I'll be fine. I'm just going to the next floor down to get a lost book. What could possibly happen?"

She started to move her hands furiously again. Diana raised an eyebrow. "I'm not even going to bother translating the list of things she thinks could happen."

"I'll be _fine_ ," Tabitha said again as she ducked out of the room.

When she got to the Entrance Hall a short time later, she quickly scanned the floor for any dropped texts. Sure enough, laying dejectedly in the corner was her book, some of the pages torn out.

Picking it up, she turned to make her way back up the staircase and to class before the bell could ring. Surprisingly enough, she found herself at the end of two wands.

"Can I help you?" she asked, looking down at the tips of the wands pointed at her with an eyebrow raised.

"I believe you may be of some assistance," the slightly taller boy noted, sharp grey eyes glaring down at her.

"Yes, certainly," the other boy continued. "You see, you hurt our friend quite a bit, and we don't tolerate that."

"And you know what they say," the first boy said, smiling almost maliciously. "An eye for an eye. Oh, and we'll be splitting the payment between you and your little Slytherin friend, so don't worry, you'll live."

"My... Slytherin friend?" Tabitha asked delicately, pressing a finger to the tip of one of the wands as it came just a little too close for comfort.

"Yes, the Dwyer girl," the shorter boy hissed. "The one who threatened my Lily."

'She threatened Lily? Who is Lily?' Tabitha wondered. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh sure, you say that here and now, but really, you're plotting with your evil little snake-buddies," the boy (the shorter one again) sneered. "I'll bet you've already got the Dark Mark." His wand pointed downwards at her left forearm, then up to her neck again.

"I just got to this country a few days ago," Tabitha countered calmly. "And I only met Mercy this morning, why, pray tell, would I have a reason to plot against you? I think you may be a little paranoid."

"Heh, just like a Ravenclaw, trying to logic your way out of it," the taller one took over. "Look, Hurley, just watch your back. If we catch you anywhere near our friends, you'll be very sorry."

The wands lowered, and the boys glared at her, before turning to go on their way, presumably to their next lesson. She was about to follow when the shorter one turned back, obscenely messy hair and hazel eyes burning into her memory.

"Oh, here's a little something to make the message sink in."

Red light hit her full in the face, and she stumbled back, a hand flying up to her nose. She could feel blood trickling down her lips now, and she glared at the boys, wincing as she gingerly brushed her shattered nose with a finger.

'I'll get you back for that,' she thought angrily. 'I will get you back, I swear.'

Tabitha wondered if she could fix it herself. Probably could, but it wouldn't be the same as going to the infirmary. She didn't want to miss anymore classes today, especially because of stupid Gryffindors.

Sighing, she raised her wand, whispering the incantation to a somewhat powerful healing spell. After class, she'd go get it fixed. Right now, her pride was more important than her nose.

Glaring down at the book in her hand, Tabitha set off up the staircase yet again. The bell sounded suddenly, very loud and painful in her ears. _Wonderful_ , she thought, _I'm going to be late._

A few moments later, she pushed open the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom quietly.

"Using non-verbal spells can be particularly helpful when - Well, hello. Glad you could join us."

Tabitha flinched, looking up at the front of the room.

* * *

"Where is she?" Diana hissed, looking at the door as the bell rang. "She should have been back before now, it's only the first floor."

"Maybe she ran into trouble?" Mercy suggested lightly, only to be met with carefully indifferent stares.

"It's possible," Diana admitted grudgingly. "But what kind of trouble? Everyone should be in class by now; even the Marauders got here before the bell."

Before the conversation could progress, the door swung open, and two sets of hopeful eyes, and one set of mildly concerned ones locked on the newcomer. Diana's shoulders sank slightly at the sight of a short woman, who stood with one arm full of books, and the other holding the door handle. Clever blue eyes swept over the class, and a slight smile crossed her pretty features.

"Good afternoon, class," she said in a carrying, but quiet voice. "I am Professor Howard, and I would like to welcome you to sixth year Defence Against the Dark Arts. I'm not too good with names, so excuse me if I have to ask you your name a few times before I remember."

During this time, she'd walked to her desk and set her things up with a swish of a long, pale wand. She then turned back to the still silent, and somewhat awed class. She had a powerful aura, one that almost commanded respect, despite her lack of words thus far.

"Now, this term we will be studying combat, and spells used for combat," she said, pointing her wand to the board, causing words to write themselves across its surface. "We will briefly review Dark creatures, but we will focus on Dark spells, and how to combat them. In a duel, the element of surprise, and split second reactions determine whether you live or die, so it is important, especially in these dangerous times, that we concentrate on duelling, which means lots of practical lessons."

There was a general cheer from the class, and Professor Howard smiled a little more.

"Yes, we will be holding competitions in which students will face off, and the victors will progress to the next round, while those who lost will duel each other and practice," she continued. "The overall winner will face me, and if you win that match, you will receive fifty points for your house. Now, if you will give me your attention for a moment, for a reason other than the prospect of a duel, I will call the roll."

And that she did, because about five minutes later, Professor Howard set the roll down, and sat nonchalantly on the edge of her desk, ready to speak once again.

"Now, in a duel, as I said earlier, your advantages lie in your reaction time, your skill, and your ability to take advantage of the element of surprise. One of the easiest ways to do this, is to use a quick, but creative spell, one that will surprise and confuse your enemy hopefully long enough for you to strike him down. Using non-verbal spells can be particularly useful when-."

The door burst open as quietly as was possible for a rusty door, and a tired, panting girl to do so. Tabitha stood there, looking as though she'd rather not be drawing the attention she was receiving from her new classmates.

"Well, hello. Glad you could join us."

The brunette flinched, and looked at the professor almost guiltily.

"Sorry, professor... Getting my book took a little longer than expected," Tabitha said sheepishly, walking past Diana and Maggie's desk to take her seat next to Mercy.

"You would be?"

"Hurley, Tabitha," she said softly, busying herself with repairing her split bag and getting out parchment and a quill.

The professor ticked something off on the roll of parchment Tabitha was sure was the roll list, before beginning again, "As I was saying, non-verbal spells are useful in duels. Using a spell verbally gives your opponent time to react and stop whatever you're throwing at them. If you can do it non-verbally, you hold the element of --"

"What took so long?" Tabitha heard Diana hiss behind her.

Leaning back slightly, she whispered, "Tell you later. Long story."

Diana nodded, and Tabitha returned her attention to the front of the room.

* * *

About an hour later, Tabitha swung her bag over her shoulder and waited for the others. She checked her timetable and saw that she had Transfiguration next, which was also on the first floor.

She had been hopeless at Transfiguration at Salem's, and doubted that she would be any better here. Hoping that it was just going to be some simple review for today, Tabitha headed out the door, the others in tow.

Once they were out of earshot of the classroom, Diana rounded on her. "All right, what happened? What kept you?"

"I was held up. Two stupid Gryffindor boys seem to think that you and I-" she turned to Mercy, "- are plotting. I have no idea why, but I think they were the friends of the boy I got Bubotuber Pus all over this morning.

"Oh," She added, after a moment of silence, "Who is Lily? Apparently you threatened her and now you're on the Hitlist."

Tabitha laughed inwardly. It was like they were against some sort of Mafia, with hitlists and secret attacks before class... Hogwarts was indeed a strange school.

"Eh," Mercy shrugged. "This red-headed girl, apparently she's a mudblood."

Diana and Maggie froze, frosty eyes and sharp glares biting into Mercy's back.

Tabitha eyed her fellow Ravenclaws oddly. Had Mercy said something wrong...? She was definitely going to ask later.

Still mulling all of this over, she followed them into the Transfiguration classroom.

* * *

Tabitha, Diana, and Maggie headed for the Ravenclaw common room after dinner, saying goodbye to Mercy at the foot of the marble staircase. Apparently, her common room was in the dungeons.

Once Diana had answered the riddle presented by the guardian of the common room, Tabitha collapsed into a poofy blue chair. "What a day," she said, leaning back against the armrest happily.

"The first week back is always crazy," Diana said, "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

"And the stairs, hopefully..."

Maggie nodded, still wearing her grin.

There was silence for a moment, before Tabitha said, "Er... guys? Can I speak to you up in the Dorm?"

Diana nodded, looking worried, and Maggie started up the stairs. Once they were seated, Tabitha on her bed and Diana and Maggie on the one next to hers (Tabitha assumed it was Diana's), Tabitha said sheepishly, "Remember earlier, after Defense Against the Dark Arts...? When Mercy called the Lily girl a mudblood... why were you so offended?"

The other two exchanged looks.

"I don't know what it's like in America," Diana started, "But here, it's a really bad insult for someone who's muggle-born. It's not taken to kindly... blood status is really important to some here. That's what all the conflict is about, really..."

"What conflict?"

"Er... I'm not sure how to explain it..."

"Please try. I want to know if I'm going to live and go to school here."

"Well... some of the oldest wizarding families think that the only good wizards are purebloods. They don't think that muggleborns should be educated in magic, or even have a place in our society. The idea was originally set by Salazar Slytherin, the founder of Mercy's house. It's said that he only wanted those of purest blood and select qualities in his house... but we'll never know, will we?"

Tabitha dropped her eyes, and shook her head. "So, that's the reason everyone hates Slytherin..."

Maggie nodded, no longer grinning.

"There's a rumor going around... I don't know if it's true, so don't quote me on it... but people say that the wizards with those ideas are going to have a leader soon... a powerful dark wizard. Point is, though, that soon this little 'conflict' is going to turn it into a full-out war."

Tabitha mulled this over slowly. "I don't understand all of this... in America it doesn't matter how much magical blood you have or don't have. My friends used to joke with me... call me 'mudblood' sometimes... a term of affection, sort of..."

She allowed herself to fall back onto her bed, staring up at her blue curtains. _What have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

Mercy fell back gracelessly onto a chair, hitting the cushions with a soft thump. She sighed, and closed her eyes, reflecting on the day as she blocked out the dancing green flames. The day hadn't been good, it had been her first, and already she had enemies, not to mention homework and sore muscles. She'd threatened someone in Potions, and made four new enemies, and as a result, gotten Tabitha's nose broken. She'd also apparently said the wrong thing to Maggie and Diana; why had they reacted so badly to 'mudblood'? Where she came from it wasn't offensive, it was just a... almost a nickname. You could call them a muggleborn, but mudblood was just the slang term. She sighed, and opened her eyes.

She'd gotten herself embarrassed in Charms, just for realising that the OWLs were the British equivalent of the MSC, or Magic School Certificate. Who was that boy? The one who looked right at her when he laughed? He had been a Slytherin, that she knew. Bracing herself, she stood up, and headed over to where Philomena sat, reading a book and making notes.

"Yes, Dwyer?" the other girl asked, not bothering to look up.

"I'm trying to find someone," she said, sitting opposite Philomena. "He's a Slytherin, our year."

"What does he look like?"

"Tall, 'nd kinda wimpy, weedy almost," Mercy replied, recalling the Charms class. "He had sorta dark blonde hair, and green eyes?"

She didn't really know how she had remembered him in such detail, as she's only been glaring at the back of his head for half the lesson. Philomena looked up, her expression thoughtful.

"Sounds like Patrolcus Nott," she said finally. "Why are you looking for him?"

"Personal business to take care of," Mercy replied, lips curving into a wicked smile. "Where d'ya reckon he'd be?"

"Usually he's skulking around the halls, but it is the first day back, so no telling where," Philomena had returned to her homework. "If you want to be alone with him, try waiting outside the door, with a disillusionment charm on if you stay out past curfew."

Mercy nodded. "Thanks."

And thus she found herself shivering in the dank hallway that lead to her common room twenty minutes later. She was glad that curfew hadn't been reached, because Slughorn had passed once or twice, and given her a strange look. The Slytherin prefects had also passed, but they didn't seem to care that she was out, not even looking at her. She was also glad when she heard raucous laughter and saw dark blonde hair in the light shed by a lit wand. She stood straighter as the group of sixth year boys muttered the password ( _Incorruptus Cruentorum_ ), and took a breath.

"Oi! Nott!" she called.

The blonde stopped, and turned, looking annoyed.

"What Dwyer?" he spat.

"See you in-." One of the other boys started.

"Don't laugh at me." She said coolly.

Before Nott could blink, he was screaming and slapping frantically at his arms and body, from where flames where leaping. His friends, who had been about to enter the common room, stared with a mixture of horror and shock on their faces, as well as a little awe. Mercy swept past them, feeling rather satisfied as she tucked her wand away. Behind her she heard someone speak in a strange whisper.

"Is he on fire?"

"No," she continued on through the common room, calling back. "He just thinks he is."

* * *

**Gah, okay. I know you're thinking, "I waited a week for _this?!_ " But we all have lapses, and this has been one of mine. So I hope you can stay with it and don't hate us. Thanks.**

**R.A**

**PS: It has just occured to me that if we added a person with a B, we could be Regulus. Why, you ask? Because I haven't slept in forever and my brain is dead.**


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